Blue Spirit
by queenpearl
Summary: The story of Canada's most celebrated schooner!
1. Chapter 1: The Blue Jenny

Chapter 1~ The Blue Jenny

Luninberg Nova Scotia October 1920

1920 hadn't been a good year for the Novans. The province had spent half the year preparing and putting together the race and the first time it was run, the Americans stole the show, taking home the staked $4000 and the coveted IF trophy. It wasn't fair! There were many who felt Delawana should never have lost. There were others that felt it should've been Gilbert B. Walters in that race and still others who wondered just what might become if the two were paired. And that is just what happened. Thomas Himmelman, captain of the Delawana, and Angus Walters, captain of the Gilbert B. Walters, decided to breed the two. Delawana had proven she couldn't beat the Americans but perhaps one of her shiplings could. Breeding these two was important for another reason as well. For the people of Luninberg, breeding their schooners was like breeding thoroughbreds. There was a lot of money to be made, and even more to be lost but that slim chance to own the schooner of the lifetime was what kept the business going. Both Delawana and Walters had impeccable pedigrees. Walters was descended from the likes of Preussan I and Peking. While Delawana was out of the legendary brig Amazon. There was not a drop of steamship blood in them, the last true purebred schooner line.

6 months after breeding in late March 1921, Delawana went into labor. Sailboats tended to have their shiplings quick, a trait that has served them well against predators. So when Delawana's labor lasted for longer than 3 hours, there was cause for concern. As another defense, sailboats had large litters, 5 or more and as a result complications were common. Too common this year for Angus. Two expecting mothers had to be put down after their fetus' died and started to rot inside them. Delawana didn't have that trouble but with so many shiplings all wanting out at the same time, there were bound to be traffic jams. Angus stood by her stern, ready to receive the first shipling. Tom was at her bow. Seeing her captain was essential in keeping her calm. Delawana's flanks seized and she shrieked in pain. "It's okay girl, it's okay." Tom soothed her with a gentle hand. She groaned, head dropping back down. He kept his hand over her nose, feeling it shift beneath him as her body contorted with painful spasms. "Shh, shh..." To continued to soothe her. "First one's coming!" Angus called and Tom breathed a sigh of relief. "Almost over girl, just push. Push hard! You can do it!" The first child, a large stout* came slowly. His bulk was almost too big for Delawana's passage. He slid out and Angus immediately grabbed him, taking a knife to the sac and cutting the umbilical chord. Once free, he set it down next to Delawana and the mother licked it vigorously. He twitched, giving a loud cry. He had strong lungs and would survive. The next two, also stouts were born stillborn. The first was dead upon delivery. The second was too weak to take more than a single breath before his weak lungs gave out on him. Angus watched as Delawana desperately tried to get them working again, to no avail. Her amber eyes clouded with grief she had no time to mourn the loss as the fourth shipling emerged. Like the second, it too was stillborn and Angus didn't bother handing him to Delawana. He sensed the mother knew.

"Come on old girl, don't quit on me now. Just one more!" Tom's frantic voice brought him back to reality. Delawana was really struggling now. "Just one more! Just one more!" Tom chanted in a desperate sort of mantra. Delawana's response was an exhausted wheeze. Angus felt for her. His own wife had only one child at a time and that was tough enough! He couldn't imagine the agony the schooner was going through right now. A keening cry cut through his thoughts as Delawana's bow rose clear of the water. Her teeth clacked together and with one last push, the final shipling as born. Born in a shower of blood that soaked Angus' arms and face. He picked it up before it could sink, discovering it was a jenny. The only jenny of the bunch. She was small and thin, looking quite ragged compared to her brother. He was quick to remove the sac and umbilical, handing it to Delawana. The exhausted mother could just barely manage licking her daughter. "Mraaw!" the little one said. Despite her humble and, with the blood coating her hull, rather ghastly appearance, she had strong lungs. Angus wondered what other strengths lay hidden in that deceptively weak hull of hers.

She and her brother snuggled to their mother, latching on and suckling. Delawana lay back, too tired to do anything. The stout relaxed against her but the jenny seemed to have a sixth sense and started yipping, nudging her mother's hull frantically. Once Delawana raised her bow, nuzzling her daughter but once she rested it back down, it never rose again. She tried a few times but she had lost too much blood, used too much strength and now, she had none left. The steady warmth tickling Tom's palm ceased. "N-no." The jenny wailed, her little bowsprit poking her mother's hull repeatedly. She was calling for her mother. Why wasn't she responding! With their mother dead, Angus worried for the little one's future. Sailboats didn't adopt and dependent as these little ones were, they needed someone to care for them until they were old enough to fend for themselves. Tom glared at Angus. "You can raise these little bastards! But the she-devil's yours!" He glared hatedly at the little jenny who was still trying to rouse her mother while her brother sat in quiet acceptance. It was clear to Angus that Tom blamed her for Delawana's death. Angus didn't blame him. In a sense he wasn't wrong but he couldn't bring himself to hate the poor shipling like Tom could. Then again, Delawana wasn't his loss.

The two shiplings ended up riding to his house in a basket. Like most homes in the village, it was within walking distance of the wharf. Angus took the two immediately into the bathtub to get the rest of the birthing fluid off them. As he did he noticed the stout had a brown hull while the jenny's was bluish-black with a gold stripe running the length of it. Her masts were folded back into her deck and would spring up as she got older but her bowsprit and stays were already well formed. Then her eyes opened for the first time. Her brother had inherited their father's bluish-green and Angus expected the same for the jenny but he was wrong. A pair of liquid amber-brown eyes eagerly took in their surroundings before meeting his. She tilted her head to the side, clearly not expecting his face. Her eyes were aflame with her fierce spirit. Her body may've been rags but her heart was strong. He rubbed her forecastle and she leaned into the petting, finding the feeling strange but nice.

Finishing, Angus drained the bath. (The jenny took delight in watching the whirlpool form at the drain) and carried them both wrapped in blankets downstairs. His wife, Maggie was in the kitchen. "Who are these little darlings?" She asked. "They are-were Delawana's." He replied quietly. "Oh, Angus I'm so sorry!" She said. "It's Tom I'm more worried about. He wants nothing to do with these little ones. Called this one a devil!" He pointed to the jenny. "What an awful thing to say!" Maggie scolded. "How could anyone say such to such a cute poor little shipling." Her finger tickled her nose and she sneezed. Maggie pulled back with a laugh. "Have you thought of names for them dear. We can't call them Stout and Jenny." She asked. Come to think of it, Angus had. For the stout anyways. The jenny was a little harder. "He'll be Gilbert, for his father." He certainly looked the part. He was Walter's spitting image. "And this sweet girl?" Maggie couldn't help but fawn over the little blue shipling who reveled in the attention. Angus' silence was her answer. "Well I have one." She picked her up out of the blankets, inspecting her blue hull. "She's got the makings of a champion." She said. "How can you tell?" Angus asked. "It's in her eyes. She's got a fighting spirit in there, just waiting for a good run." Maggie replied. "Best fitting to give her a worthy name of her soon to be status. She is Bluenose." "Bluenose." Angus repeated, recognizing the name as that for all Novans. He stroked her head, earning himself a purr and a lick. "She's perfect."

*Male sailboat. Female sailboats are called jennies.


	2. Chapter 2: Maiden Voyage

Bluenose adapted to her situation quickly, much more so than Angus had expected. While it would've seemed like a sensible thing to give her to a nurse mother, sailboats didn't adopt and if he tried well, it was the kind of thing you only did once. So Angus was foster mom so to speak. Sailboats had a very short childhood and Bluenose displayed that. After a week, she was too big to fit in the makeshift basket that Maggie had made for her. The second week saw her sleeping on their bed. She took up more and more room by the day but she did make for a great foot warmer and Angus had to admit she looked adorable curled up at the foot of the bed between them.

By the third week she was too big to carry and couldn't sit anywhere on the upper level or else she'd break the floor. It was time to put her back in the water. She was placed on a specially made platform on wheels that allowed her to use her rigging lines to pull herself along. Bluenose for her part, was enjoying the ride despite the harry start on the front steps. But once out on the street life couldn't be better as far as she was concerned. Maggie had packed her some smoked fish to munch on which she did so, purring away happily especially as Angus gave her head pats every other stride. Her soon to be captain stayed by her side for the 5 mile trip to the waterfront.

They came to a hill, part of the quiet road that lead to the water. Angus eyed the steep slope warily but Bluenose gave a eager bark and with one fierce push from her rigging, down she went. "Bluenose!" Angus shouted, racing after her. He didn't have a hope in hell of catching her though. Bluenose giggled veraciously as she rolled along faster than any human could run. Her tongue hung out the side of her mouth as she grinned, tasting the wind. The ride ended as the platform met the water and it not being a raft, started to sink. Her cries of joy became cries of terror. Strapped down to it as she was, she couldn't escape.

Angus dove into the water, swimming out beside her. It was cold but he ignored it and his numbing fingers swiftly undid the ties at the base. His sailboat rose level, towering over him. At 3 weeks old, Bluenose already drew 10 feet with an overall length of 70 feet and a beam of 20. She had some filling out to do which would occur over the next few weeks. Her sails were the first things to finish growing, a necessary point for any ship seeking to flee a predator. 102 feet for the foremast and 126 feet for the mainmast. All the rigging was in place. She just needed sails. A natural sailboat would've had their own sails by now but it was common practice to make a small cut in the base of the masts immediately after birth that prevented this feature from appearing. It allowed for people to have their say in what kind of sails their ship could have rather than the ship growing them themselves. Either way, Bluenose was in the water now and she was getting canvas.

Returning to shore, Angus ignored his sopping wet clothes for the time being and set about rigging his ship. Bluenose never liked being tied up and she tugged impatiently at her mooring lines. "Steady now. These things take time." He soothed her. She huffed, sticking her tongue at him good naturedly. He flicked it and she whined. "That belongs inside your mouth missy." She rolled her eyes, giggling as he attached the sails to her mainmast. Usually, a full crew would be used but Angus had yet to find men and he doubted Bluenose was ready for them anyways. She was wary around strangers and had taken a special attachment to him, unlike anything he'd seen before in other sailboat families.

Sailboats familial attachments went about as far as their attention spans and schooners were some of the worst in that department. Reaching sailing age by six weeks and full maturity by 10, there was no room for any kind of maternal bonding. Schooners Bluenose's age would've already left the berth by now, learning how to fend for themselves with whatever knowledge their mothers taught them in that short time. The rest they would need to learn on their own. But Bluenose showed no signs of wanting to go anywhere. In fact she seemed to be even more clingy the older she got. If Angus so much as went 5 feet down the dock she'd start whining. Oh tonight was going to be _hell!_ But she needed to learn how to be on her own.

Putting that out of his mind for now though he finished with the mainmast and moved onto the foremast, setting up the sails and leaving them furled to the masts so she could get used to them. These were the standard sails, the ones she would use when sailing on the Grand Banks. "Try those out." Angus ordered, stepping back to allow her room to drop the sails. Most sailboats would take it slow and test one at a time but again Bluenose was unusual as she dropped all the sails on her mainmast, wiggling her boom back and forth to get a feel for the movement. The mooring lines strained to hold her in position as the sails caught the wind and thinking fast, Angus undid them, just managing to climb aboard before she took off. A happy giggle told him Bluenose knew exactly what she was doing and was enjoying it too. The sails on her foremast went up and she heeled over to port, her starboard rail digging into the sea. Angus made his way to the wheel, feeling the song of his ship the second his hands touched it. He turned the wheel to port, following the channel in a wide lap around the harbor. Customary for any ship on their first run.

Bluenose once again was breaking the norm with the sheer speed she was going at. She had to be sailing at at least 12 knots and she showed no signs of being tired. For a youngster, such speed was trying and they would quickly tire, having no endurance built up but what Angus couldn't see or know about yet was his ship was born for this. The bloodline told most of the story. Gilbert B. Walters was a speed demon. He could run at a record breaking number of knots but only for short periods before he started to tire and would slow down. Delawana, god rest her soul, was the exact opposite. Oh she was fast but her main ability lied in near constant runs to and from the fishing banks without tiring. Bluenose was a product of this cross breeding. Speed/endurance. Have it the other way and only one trait would emerge but the father-daughter lineage of speed and the mother-daughter lineage of endurance ensured that Bluenose had both. Her heart was already fully grown and weight twice as much as the average schooner's. Her lungs had additional capillaries, allowing her to absorb larger quantities of oxygen. Her throat could expand wider, allowing for greater, easier air flow into the body. Her canvas was over 10,000 square feet, one of the largest ever seen on a schooner. And her masts were reinforced inside, to allow her to withstand the greater speeds she could generate with her large canvas area. As she plowed along in open water, Angus took the time to listen to his ship. Beyond the water splashing against her hull and the wind humming in her rigging, he could hear her pace. The steady beat of her breath, not panting, not exerting, just a constant snort that turned to steam in the chilly morning air with every exhale, like a locomotive. He also noticed something else, something very important for his plans. Bluenose didn't fall off the wind as she came down off a swell. Most ships would but somehow, Bluenose's sails took a bite out of the wind no matter what angle her bow was at. She practically floated across the bay.

Angus turned the wheel again, bringing her around on a course back to the docks. He could feel Bluenose's disappointment and hear her annoyed pout. "I know girl. But that's enough for today." He said, giving her a pat. Bluenose tossed her head and trotted back to her berth. William Berenger was on the dock with the lines when they returned. "That's a nice Jenny you got there Angus." He called as he tossed a line up. Bluenose scooted warily away from the newcomer but Angus had the line tied off swiftly. "He's alright girl. This here is an old friend of mine." "Not as old as yourself old man!" Berenger teased. Bluenose gave a confused bark. As Angus tied down the wheel and made sure all her sails were furled properly, Berenger finished with the remaining lines and went up to her bow, holding out his hand. Bluenose's nose twitched as she took in his scent and deciding he was okay she gave a friendly bark, promptly licking his face. Berenger jumped back. "And hello to you too." He said, wiping the drool off his face. "Bluenose," Angus admonished. "What have I told you about licking people?" Bluenose looked only partly regretful as she giggled, nudging Berenger gently with her nose. The man laughed. "She's a sweet thing." He said. "You looking for crew Angus?" "You volunteering son?" Berenger gently thumbed Bluenose's lower jaw, something that made the schooner purr in delight. "I saw you practicing out there? Was that your first time out?" "It was." "Looked like it was your 10th." Angus chuckled. "Bluenose may be inexperienced, but caution is not in her vocabulary." "Nor is slow apparently. I clocked you between the inner and outer markers." Berenger said. "Oh?" Angus was interested and so was Bluenose, the schooner's amber eyes fixed on him intently. "A minute 35." "1:35 flat, for the inner and outer markers?" Angus had expected a fast time but that was unheard of! "Yeah, I thought my watch had broken but I know what I saw. You've got a winner here Angus. Give her some proper racing sails and she'll run the masts right off those Yanks." Bluenose gave an agreeable bark. "And you know what this racing business is about missy?" He asked her but she'd already lost interest for a mooring line instead. He sighed. "How old is she?" Berenger asked. "3 weeks." "Really?" He looked her over with a professional eye and Bluenose puffed up a bit for him. "Well, she'll be a fine specimen when she's grown. I'd be happy to crew if you'll have me." "William, welcome aboard." And it with that William Berenger became the first Bluenose crewman to be signed aboard, sealed with a handshake from Angus and a few more rounds of licking from Bluenose.


	3. Interlude 1: Prayer Delivered Part 1

_"Ac tempora di superi suscipe..."_

Selene had just begun his midnight prayer. The war had played havoc on Haiti's economy, or what remained of it that is. Most days the family could barely find food for a single meal and just about every night his children went to bed with the pains of an empty stomach. Outside the storm was raging, rain slashing against the windows of his humble straw house. The palms were bent to the ground in the strong winds as the heavens cried their ferocity.

 _"Deprecationem nostram libera..."_

A scream was heard over the squeals of the wind. A desperate, painful scream that could only be a ship in terrible agony. Selene looked to the window, knowing it was impossible to see the street, never mind the sea. The fierce winds meant that scream could've carried quite a distance and many a ship had fouled themselves upon the many reefs dotting the coast. Selene tried to continue his prayer _"Ac tempora di superi..."_ But the scream sounded again and with the wind shift, it sounded closer. It echoed in his ears, vibrating his soul. He suddenly found himself unable to concentrate. Less than a minute later, he had his gear on and was out the door.

The darkness made it difficult to see but at least the rain had stopped. The wind still howled, its biting chill eating at the fisherman's jacket but Selene was used to the storms that so often cropped up without warning. And he continued on. With not but a light of a lantern to guide him, he found the source of the cries. A lone freighter, slammed head on into the aptly named Mad Reef. For it had made more than one ship go mad as their timbers were swarmed and picked over by hungry salvagers. Selene himself was guilty of the practice but his morals demanded him to scavenge from only live ships and even then, take nothing of real value to the ship. If he needed something, he'd find it somewhere else. His father had taught him to respect the sea and the creatures that sailed upon it for it was they who gave him life. He thought of his own ship, the old one masted Celestine, safe in her dock back home. She had served his family well but her health was failing her. He knew of what was afflicting her, a disease that rotted her timbers and turned her sails to rags. But the medicine needed to cure her was just too expensive for his measly wage. And even that would vanish with her death.

The ship still cried out as her timbers broke under the relentless onslaught of waves and coral. Selene could see its back was broken and he prayed for a swift end to its suffering. Building a makeshift shelter, he staked out on the ridge above in a symbolic gesture of "this ship's mine now. Stay clear."

With the dawn came silence as the storm passed. Even the ship didn't cry anymore and Selene thought it was dead. But a trip to the shore quickly told him otherwise. The ship, revealed to be a female had the lines of a schooner suggesting she'd been overhauled and converted as so many of her kind had. With teeth bared she snapped at him. She lacked the fangs of a military vessel but her lines were sleek and clean as benefiting a vessel of high bred quality. But she had clearly been abused. Whip marks fresh and old marred her sides and what used to be full flanks were now not more than a skeleton with wood over it. Her amber eyes were dull and her silver muzzle showed her age. She leaned heavily against the coral that had so cruelly (or perhaps mercifully) sliced into her hull. Rigging lines wrapped tightly around it in a makeshift bollard tightening against the surf as it tried to drag her out to sea. Her body may've been weak but her spirit remained strong. She was not giving up without a fight, this one.

Selene kept out of reach of those teeth and he held out a hand slowly, keeping his eyes lowered out of respect. Sailing ships were the most unpredictable of the types that appeared here and each had its own personality. This one was clearly a veteran of the sea and Selene needed to respect her power. He felt her hot breath tickle his fingers and resisted the urge to flinch. After a moment, a quiet rumble indicated to him he was cleared to approach. Not moving too quickly, he closed the distance and placed a gentle hand on her nose. She flinched back at first but settled as he soothed her. She tossed her head a few times and each time Selene's patience and experience came to the forefront and he gently brought her calm again. He noted her distinctive anchors, unlike any he'd ever seen. They spoke of a proud lineage far far away from here. "Not from around here are you?" He asked, stroking her chin and she blew air softly on his nose. He chuckled. "Sweet thing you are." He said. "Mind if I see the damage?" Instantly her gaze became wary. "I'm just gonna look." He assured her. "I won't touch anything, promise." She relented albeit reluctantly. He kept a hand on her hull as he made his way away from her bow, towards the break. The coral hid the worst of the damage and the biggest bleeding had long since stopped but Selene could still see blood as the sea turned red around it, staining the rocks and the sand. Her keel had snapped like a twig, the aft end jamming itself up into her ribs and no doubt causing agonizing pain if she could feel it. It was beyond his ability to repair even if he tried. He sighed and his sigh told her what she already knew. "I'm sorry girl." He said and her muzzle pressed against his back, nudging him gently. She truly was a special thing. Even as she lay dying she was trying to comfort him. He looked at her. "I-I don't even know your name." She turned her head back to shore, exposing her name plates for the first time. The letters were written in gold and were the only thing on her not faded with time. They glinted brightly as though fresh off the assembly line. In bold, elegant letters the name was spelled out.


	4. Interlude 2: Prayer Delievered Part 2

Bluenose. Selene had heard the name before. He wasn't extremely familiar with the lore surrounding the famous Canadian fishing schooner but he did know she was fastest in the world at one time, beating every ship that challenged her. He'd even seen her once before when she was plying these same waters during the war. There had been much fanfare surrounding her arrival here but that spritely ship that sailed so smoothly she could've been floating across the sea was gone. And in her place, this shadow, echo, Selene wasn't sure what to call her. She was Bluenose, but not the Bluenose that should be remembered.

The once proud sailing ship was a thing to be pitied and Selene cursed the men who ran her to this. Ran her until she could run no more. It was cruel immoral thing to do that he'd seen too many times in these parts. What desperation would drive men to do sometimes... "Oh Bluenose." He sighed, stroking the old ship's muzzle. Bluenose purred, gentle as she leaned into his stroking. Selene wanted to help her but he wasn't sure just what difference he could make or if she would even let him. She seemed trusting enough. So he resolved to give it a shot. He whistled, fingers pressing a point on her throat. She stiffened. He whistled again and this time it worked. She rolled on her good side, stern moving by gravity and adopted a standard careen position. One of her anchors dropped instinctively to hold her there. He gave her an approving pat and set to work. Her wound was deep and Selene knew of only one way to close it. He lit a fire there on the beach and heated a bar until it was glowing, then he pressed it to her side. She squealed, fighting to both get away from him and right herself. Selene put a calming hand to her. "Shh, it's alright Bluenose. Just relax." Her head dropped and she offered one last whimper before submitting herself. Her eyes slipped closed as the sizzling sound of the wound closing wafted over her ears. It took an hour but at last he was done. Bluenose tried to right herself but couldn't, her feeble strength failing her with every attempt. "You can do it girl, I know you can come on." She shifted and rolled, fighting as hard as she could but then one particularly large wave slammed into her stern, straining her back even more. A harsh strained cry escaped her and she began rolling. Not upright but back down. "No, don't lie down! Don't lie down!" Selene cried. She groaned once before her head hit the sand, lying flat on her side as she surrendered herself to the elements. He stroked her muzzle. "Get up Bluenose. Come on, get up!" He begged. "Get up please!" A ship could not survive long on her side without the buoyant water to support her. Her own weight would be her undoing. "Bluenose..." She looked at him with such a helpless hopeless look it took the rest of his sentence away from him. His heart clenched and it suddenly became very hard to breathe. It felt like he was forcing air into his lungs if he was at all. Something wet could be felt on his cheeks. Then she looked away from him and the moment was broken. He sighed, vowing to stay with her 'till the very end.

And he did. He manned the fire next to her, always with one hand upon her hull figuring, gently stroking, anything that could bring her some small measure of comfort. And he talked, talked constantly. He didn't know what else to do. "And when mom found her raiding the kitchen, oh I thought for sure the spoon would come out she was so mad! But Celestine's cute face spared her. Ah, Celestine. She's hardly that young now. 'Bout the same age as you, I reckon. Up until a year ago she was still playing mischief and then came the illness. The kind that makes the bones hurt and any food you eat worthless. I don't know how she's hung on for as long as she has. Yes, I know there's a cure for it but my family's like any other in these parts. We can barely afford to put food on the table. Hell, we can't even do that most days." Bluenose shifted beneath his hand, her head rising just enough to get at the hatch on her deck. Her muzzle buried itself into her hold and she came back up with a crate firmly in her teeth. She set it down in front of him. "What's this?" Curious, he opened it and gasped. Inside, wrapped protectively in straw, were 32 bottles of the very cure Celestine needed. "Bluenose, I-" She gave a bark, eyes soft. _"Take it."_ She seemed to say. "Bluenose, I can't just take things from you." She eyed him with a sarcastic look. "Okay yes, I'm a salvager like everyone else is around here but my father taught me to be respectful. I won't take anything unless you approve of it first." She rolled her eyes, nudging the box closer to him and gestured to her hold with her rigging lines. Her meaning was clear. _"Anything in there, is yours."_ "Oh Bluenose," He sighed. "Why is it always the ships like you?" Her loss would hurt the world greatly and it would hurt Selene just as bad.

Night fell and still Bluenose clung to life. Selene manned the fire, roasting a banana. One of many he found in her hold. Besides the crates there were hundreds of sacs as well. He had yet to open them but Bluenose had indicated he was welcome to them. The old schooner had eyed his meal longingly but she was too weak to even attempt to eat and if the shift in her breathing was anything to go by, there was no point in it anyways. Selene was surprised she'd lasted this long. Most schooners her size wouldn't have lived beyond 4 or 5 hours in her position but Bluenose had lasted for at least 10 so far. It was nearly dawn and he was beginning to hope she might live to see the light when he heard her coughing. He dropped his banana and ran for her, placing both hands on her muzzle. She was thrashing and her movements were becoming less and less with each passing second. After a minute her muzzle quit bobbing. Her breaths were harsh, each accompanied by a groan. "Shh, shhh..." He whispered. One last groan and then, silence. All movement ceased and the warmth beneath his hand faded to ice. With gentle fingers he closed her glassy eyes. "Farewell, Bluenose."

...

2 days later

Selene watched nervously as Celestine stirred in her berth. He'd given her the medicine Bluenose had left him the night before and he awaited the verdict. Would it work. With a groan, his old sailboat pushed herself off the dock she'd been lying against and found her keel for the first time in months. Selene grinned. So it had worked then. She was still weak, with every rib showing, but at least she had a chance now. All thanks to Bluenose. "There's my beautiful girl." She gave a warm coo, pressing her muzzle into his hand.

He left her to eat her breakfast and returned to the house. The sacs still remained unopened as did most of the crates though Selene was pretty sure they contained bananas. His two sons were still bringing stuff up from the wreck. The sacs looked like ballast sacs but they didn't feel like it. They were heavy but if they were rocks, then they were the weirdest sounding rock's Selene had heard. He picked one up, still surprised at how heavy it was and listened to a waterfall sound from inside. _"Well, better now than later."_ He said to himself and opened the top. He nearly dropped it in shock. Inside were thousands and thousands of Canadian dimes. Some with king side up, some king side down but they all looked brand new. They clearly weren't used for ballast. Bluenose must've been keeping these for her own. He picked one out of the sack. The date on the front told him it was first minted in 1937, 9 years ago. But its shine hadn't faded. He recognized King George VI on the front and flipped it over. On the back was a schooner under full sail. One with very distinctive lines. Selene chuckled. For all her kindness, Bluenose did apparently have a vain streak, keeping all these minted versions of herself. When they were all counted, it came out to 7000 in the currency or 360,000 in Haitian gourdes. In a time where a full sized wooden house cost 300 gourdes, Selene was now beyond rich.

"Does this mean we can leave dad? Move someplace nice?" One of his son's asked. Selene looked out past him, meeting Celestine's gaze. The old sailboat was looking better by the day and her flanks had filled out nicely. The intelligence in her eyes told him she knew what was going on and even as her own fate hung in the balance her eyes held no hint of judgement or malice. One might say she looked happy for him. He sighed and smiled. "No, but we can renovate this place a bit. Maybe get Celestine a proper set of sails." The sailboat gave an excited bark. "And if we do move anywhere, it shall be where we can all be together." He gazed at his sailboat meaningfully and she dipped her prow.


	5. Chapter 3: Not So Good Morning

Chapter 3~ Not So Good Morning

By the time Angus had found himself to be coherent enough to stumble out of the house he feared everyone in town hated him. By the time he reached the end of his street he was felt everyone in town hated him. By the time he reached the waterfront he was _convinced_ everyone in town hated him! The reason, the same one that was causing him to stumble about like a drunkard and threatened to put him to sleep where he stood. He had his hands to his ears as did everyone else around him.

As soon as she caught his scent, Bluenose's distressed cries became joyous ones. She came undone before him, unable to keep still as she waggled her rudder excitedly back and forth. "You're in a lot of trouble missy." Angus said. She tilted her head to the side. The tone was familiar to her. She'd heard it before from Mrs. Walters when she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't be doing. She wanted it to go away so she did the only thing she knew how to do. Angus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as she rolled on her back, wriggling about cutely. She looked up at him with big eyes. "That won't work on me, Bluenose." He said. She only made her eyes bigger. "Still not working." He crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the dock, something he did only when he was really angry. She yelped and righted herself at once, head bowed submissively. "You know how we liked our peace and quiet in the house." He said. She knew what he was talking about and whined, kneeing the water with her bowsprit. She didn't like being all alone. "Look, Bluenose. You can't keep acting like this. You've made the whole town mad at me!" Now this Bluenose really didn't like and she gave another high pitched wail. "Bluenose!" Angus shouted, putting his hands over his ears again. "What did I just tell you? Quiet down!" Reluctantly, his schooner did so. He sighed. "Look, you're too big to stay in the house anymore. This berth is your home now and you need to get used to staying in it." She nodded. She could get used to it, but only if he stayed with her. She nudged him to try and convey this. "No Bluenose." He backed off. "You're a big girl now. I'll still be around during the day." She whimpered, resting her bowsprit over his shoulder as her nose pressed to the soft folds of his belly. "Okay, you're sorry I know." He stroked her. "Now I know you're tired since you stayed up all night as well." She gave a big yawn and nodded, eyes already half closed. She looked at him through her eyelids. Angus grumbled but he was tired too thanks to her. "Alright, but just this once missy." He growled and climbed aboard. He stroked her helm a few times, feeling her relax under him as she fell asleep.

"Well its about time!" called a voice. Angus looked down to see young Beck standing there. "That jenny kept us all awake with her whining. Was wondering who she belonged to." "She's an orphan I took it. I only put her in the water yesterday." Angus explained. "Well that'd sure explain a few things." He said. "I can almost feel sorry for the lass now." He put a hand out, gently stroking her side. Even in her sleep, Bluenose purred and shifted into it. Angus chuckled, carefully tiptoeing his way across the deck. He quietly climbed down onto the dock. "Now I know better." He whispered. "Let's go." Beck nodded and followed the captain to the pub across the street. By noon, the two men were staggering back to Bluenose who was just beginning to come around. Both were unquestionably drunk. "How's my big girl this afternoon?"

Bluenose tilted her head to the side, confused. Her captain's words were slurred and his accent seemed stronger than usual. He was also happy. Why was he happy? Last she recalled he was mad at her. Her nose twitched as she took in a funny smell that both he and that other man seemed to be giving off. Was this funny smell affecting their behavior somehow? It seemed too weird to Bluenose but humans did a lot of weird things. She decided to humor him and gave a soft bark, licking his face. Her eyes watered at the funny smell. It was strong and bitter and not at all pleasant. It smelled like rotten seaweed. Angus smelled like rotten seaweed, she decided. She snorted, pulling back. "Eh? What's the matter girl?" Angus staggered forward. Now she'd seen her captain stagger about before but that was a different kind of stagger, one that she'd noticed was quite common in the men. The sign of, what was the word humans used, ah yes sailor. But this wasn't a sailor's walk. It was more, clumsy. He was like one of those little humans she saw sometimes with their mothers, teetering along on unsteady sails. No, again not the right word... legs! That was it. Bluenose hummed, pleased with herself for remembering so many unfamiliar words. "You're not mad at me are you?" Bluenose's mainmast quivered in shock at Angus' statement. Why would she ever be mad at him?! But something told her that her captain didn't really know what he was saying. She didn't want to get too close to that awful smell again so she gave a soft bark instead. Next to him, the other man stumbled a step and reached out for the post on the dock to steady himself. He missed and went flailing backwards into the water. One of his arms hit Angus who followed suit. Bluenose cheeped in surprise as they both came up, floundering. Humans had a funny way of moving about in the water, waving their little arms about. That was certainly not an efficient way of sailing. No, she reminded herself. Swimming, that was the word. Bluenose recalled a time just a few weeks ago when one of the boys had taken her out to the backyard. There was a little creek running through the woods and the boys had decided to go playing in it. They'd played for hours with Bluenose mostly sitting on the shore though occasionally one of the boys would drag her in. She would just float while they swam circles around her. Certainly more graceful than her captain! Maybe she could get the boys to teach their father how to swim properly? Hmm, yes that was a good idea. Then he wouldn't be splashing about like a fish on the dock.

"You!" A voice shouted and Bluenose turned back to shore. A woman was standing on the dock with a baby in her arms. "Aren't you going to save them?" Bluenose chirped questioningly. Who needed saving? The woman pointed to where Angus and Beck were still floundering although their efforts were becoming less noticeable and they disappeared under the surface more often than not. Then Bluenose understood. They weren't splashing about because they were bad swimmers, they couldn't swim! Bluenose immediately sent a pair of rigging lines out, snatching up both men. She set them down at the dock beside her and started rubbing and licking them with her nose, starting with her captain. They both rolled to the edge of the dock and Bluenose kept one wire on them both in case they fell in again. Instead, a harsh noise filled her ears. She wrinkled her nose as a new smell hit her. It was just as foul as the bitter scent they had before. She tilted her head to get a better look at what they were doing. Something was spilling from their mouths, orange and chunky. It floated on the water. Bluenose leaned down to sniff it. It smelled like them but foul. Was it poison? She didn't think so. Then she recalled something that happened when she was still living in the house. One of the boys became warm to the touch and didn't get up and play like the others. Instead he spent time in bed with a bucket at his side. That bucket carried the same smell she was detecting now. The boy was sick, was her captain sick. He didn't feel warm like his son had.

Angus vomited once more, aware of Bluenose's hold on him. Once through, he rose to his knees feeling his ship's nose press into the back of his shoulder. "I'm okay girl, thank you." He reached up with a hand and patted her once before rising all the way. Stars flashed across his vision and he staggered. Bluenose caught him before he could fall. A new voice assaulted his ears. "Just as I thought, Charles. Going off to the pub to get drunk." Beck, already pale, went even paler as he noticed his wife and newborn son there on the dock. "Ah, my dear see I was just..." "You are coming straight home this instant." She scolded. "And dear?" Bluenose new she was being addressed and turned to face the woman. "Next time he gets drunk and falls in the water, let him find his own way out. Might teach him a lesson." She grabbed her husband by the ear and began dragging him away, despite his protests. Bluenose would've helped him but instinct told her not to get in that woman's way. Instead, she just chirped confused. Was drunk what Angus was? Beside her, Angus sighed, rubbing his palms to his eyelids. He looked like he was hurting and Bluenose curled around him, cheeping worriedly. He pat her side, more like his old self again. That smell was wearing off too. She trilled happily. Angus winced. "Bluenose, keep it down!" He ordered. She chirped. Did he want to sleep? Is that why she needed to be quiet? She picked him up, aiming to put him down on her deck. "Bluenose!" He protested, then understood what she was trying to do. "Bluenose, I don't need to sleep." She set him down gently. "Okay look." He fished around for something and pulled out a flask. "Here, this contains what's called alcohol." He held it out to her. She sniffed it curiously, pulling back with a squeal of disgust. He again winced at the high pitched sound and Bluenose instantly quieted but she was still disgusted. It was that rotten seaweed smell again only much stronger this time. So the rotten seaweed, alcohol, she told herself as she committed the word to memory, was something people drank. _Why?_ It stank! Angus chuckled. "Alcohol is a sailor's drink. Most people around here drink it. It can make people happy or sad, depending on the person. And it can loosen your tongue." Again Bluenose gave a questioning chirp. What did that mean? Angus corrected himself. "Make a person more talkative. Or make them say things that are not nice." He explained. "I've seen some ships drink it too." Bluenose made a noise of disgust. Why would anyone, human or ship, want to drink something that smelled so foul?! "Some people drink it because they're hurting and it makes them feel better. If only for a short time." Bluenose nodded. So it could be a medicine then. But why did it make Angus act sick? "Alcohol isn't good for humans. It'll make us sick if we have too much, like it did with me." Bluenose's confusion over why humans would inject something that they knew wasn't good for them was overridden by her annoyance at her captain. Angus should know better! She gave him a scolding bark. Angus chuckled. His schooner was certainly more vocal than most ships. She made no attempt to disguise what she was thinking. He read her loud and clear. "I'll make you a deal girl. I'll go easy on the alcohol if you go to sleep at night and be quiet so other people can sleep." He said. She thought for a moment before bobbing her bow up and down. Angus pet her. "Shake on it?" She eyed his outstretched hand curiously. She'd seen this kind of behavior before. It was called a handshake. But she didn't have any hands. She looked at her rigging lines. Then a thought came to her. She'd seen the boys do this all the time in the backyard. Usually when they were doing something naughty and they didn't want anyone else to know. So she held the wire up to her mouth and spat on it first before holding it out. "Bluenose!" Angus scolded. Bluenose had the grace to look sheepish but her eyes were sparkling with amusement. "You learned that from my boys didn't you?" He asked. Bluenose didn't answer but Angus rolled his eyes good naturedly and spit on his own hand. They met in the middle with a squishing sound. Angus let go first, seeing the strings of his schooner's spit dangle off his fingers. "From now on, dry handshakes only." He said and she barked her agreement. "BLUENOSE!" Angus shouted as she covered him in licks.


	6. Interlude 3: Bluenoser Lineage

**Progeny  
** 1924- Haligonian (Independence)  
1925- Kumo (Independence)  
1926- Britannic [1] (GB), Georgic (GB) (Homeric) (GB)- hard birth resulted in year hiatus  
1928- unnamed daughter (Sonny Walters)- died at birth  
1929- unnamed daughter (Henry Ford) (USA)  
1930- Esperanto II, Canadia II (Henry Ford) (USA)  
1931- Gertrude L. Theabaud [2] (Henry Ford) (USA)  
1932- abortion due to complications [3], female fetus named Oasis (Franconia)- 4 year hiatus  
1936- Normandie [4] (Bremen) (GER)  
1940- Septre [5] (GB) (Shamrock V) (GB)  
1941- Intrepid [6] (USA) Endeavor II (GB)  
1943- Bluenose II [7] (Enterprise) (USA)

[1] Britannic served White Star Line until 1960. She was known as the Last White Star Liner. Grandmother of MV Balmoral  
[2] Theabaud was Bluenose's biggest racing rival in 1931, 1932, and 1938. She beat Bluenose in the 1931 Sir Thomas Lipton Trophy. She was declared infertile after a hard birth in 1941. The child, named Columbia, went on to win the 1958 America's Cup.  
[3] Bluenose had been bred in February of 1931 when Theabaud challenged her in the inaugural Lipton Trophy. When a test came back that Bluenose was not with child, Angus went ahead with the race. What neither realized was the test was faulty and Bluenose was indeed pregnant. She was about a 1/3 the way through her 12 week gestation cycle when she met Theabaud for racing in March. Handicapped by a bad set of sails, her keel damaged from a grounding the previous fall, Bluenose was hard pressed to keep pace with the younger schooner. But she kept trying nonetheless. Theabaud won the first race, Bluenose won the second. It came down to a third and final race and Bluenose was in the lead as she rounded the final mark. But at that moment, the stresses of racing became too much for her unborn child to handle and it died inside her. It was later discovered that the umbilical chord had wrapped itself around the birthsac and began squeezing it, helped along by Bluenose's efforts on the racecourse. The chord burst the sac at the top and as Bluenose ran, it twisted until it was inside out. Angus, sensing something was wrong with his beloved ship, tried to pull her up. She had never been passed by another ship on the racecourse before and she kept fighting him to run. And for a while she was winning. Theabaud crossed the line 2 minutes in front. The initial diagnoses by Gloucester's chief doctor said she was just exhausted, helped along by the blood that dripped from her nose. But over the next 12 hours, the situation deteriorated rapidly. Another doctor was on hand. Boston insisted on the very best for its ships and little Mayflower was no exception. This doctor got it right. With the fetus rotting inside her, the only option was a highly experimental surgery. The doctor's who performed it were on the other side of the continent and with no time, the two doctors performed it themselves. It was tense time, and most were certain she wouldn't make it. The needle was seen as the kinder option. Captain Ben Pine of Theabaud even offered his own vessel as replacement. And offer which was starchily refused by the hard nosed Canadian captain. After a few weeks of touch and go it became clear that their efforts were successful. By August, Bluenose was back on her food and was even enjoying taking laps around the harbor. When another challenge came, this time for the Fisherman's Trophy. Angus was firmly against it. Bluenose needed more time, he said. But his ship was as stubborn as he was and gathered a crew from her home port in Lunenburg and set sail for Gloucester herself. By the time Angus caught up with her, she was sitting at the starting line and simply looked back at him with a look that said "well, you coming or not?!" She ended up dominating that series, making it clear in no uncertain terms that the Queen of the North Atlantic was back and she was keeping her crown!  
[4] Normandie was France's superliner. She died in a fire in New York Harbor after being seized by the US government in 1943. She was the mother of SS United States, born earlier that year. And SS France/Norway, born in 1939. Through France, she is the grandmother of the Carnival-class cruise ships.  
[5] Septre was the 1958 America's Cup challenger. Though she failed, she produced the Australia II in 1980. In 1983, Australia II would go on to become the first foreign challenger since 1851 to win the Cup.  
[6] Intrepid was the last cup winner to win more than one cup. He was the father of Liberty, who in 1983, became the last defender of the New York Yacht club, losing to another granddaughter of Bluenose, Australia II.  
[7] Bluenose II is Nova Scotia's sailing ambassador. Her son, the 2000 America's Cup winner NZL-60 produced the trimarans BOR 90 and Aotearoa II with a great granddaughter of Bluenose, Stars and Stripes. Born prematurely, she was diagnosed with a rare condition in schooners that slows their growth.

Bluenose produced one Cup Winner, Intrepid and gave rise to many others. Between 1958 and 1983 every cup winner and their challenger was either a paternal or maternal grandchild of Bluenose. And starting in 1987, with the sol exception of defender Kookabura III, every cup defender and challenger since has Bluenose somewhere in their bloodline. In 1992, her daughter Bluenose II produced the 1995 Cup Winner Black Magic who won 37 out of her 38 races. Her victory was marred by the tragic loss of One Australia (a daughter of Australia II and a great-granddaughter of Bluenose) in the Louis Vuitton Cup finals. Her loss evoked in some Bluenose's own defeat in the 1931 Sir Thomas Lipton. In both cases, both vessels refused to stop even after being injured. It's a trait that nearly all of Bluenose's descendants share. Breeder Andrew Herernshoff, grandson of famous yacht designer Nathan Herenshoff, explains the significance of Bluenose. "She was not only blessed with phenomenal natural ability on the racetrack. She also carried a high intelligence about her. Most schooners, they're dogboats. But she was very different in many ways. The way that she raised her children was different and I think that had to due with the fact that she was raised by humans. A child learns from its parents and Bluenose took what she had learned from Angus and Maggie (Angus' first wife) and applied that to her shiplings. We can still see the effects of this today. When I go into a nursery I can pick out instantly which ships are of the Bluenose line. Simply by the way they care for their young. It's fascinating." And the influence of this great schooner goes far beyond just parenting skills. "When I was sailing Stars and Stripes, I wasn't just sailing a 12 meter class yacht, I was sailing a schooner." says Dennis Conner who has 4 Cup wins to his name. "Stars and Stripes, Liberty, Intrepid they're just all so alike. They're Bluenose through and through, it's incredible! She's been so influential on these modern day racing lines." Ironically, Bluenose II is the only Canadian descendant left. The rest are scattered throughout Europe and America. The entire Royal Yacht Squadron is of the Bluenose line. And the Royal Yacht Britannia is a daughter of Britannic III and a granddaughter of bluenose. Bluenose's legacy however is ironically most prominent in the country who's rivalry with her own caused her birth in the first place. America, with Oracle Team USA's trimarans carrying on her proud lineage. Just look for the ship with the amber eyes, the gentle nature and the stubborn streak a mile wide and you've got a Bluenoser.


End file.
